


Climbing Trees

by Diary



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Teen Wolf (TV) Fusion, Awkward Conversations, Bechdel Test Pass, Character Death, Crossover, Disturbing Themes, Friendship/Love, Gen, Interspecies, Interspecies Friendship, Late Night Conversations, POV Multiple, Sharing a Bed, Wammy's Era, Werewolf Near, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 01:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crossover. Nine-year-old Near is bitten by a werewolf. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Climbing Trees

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Death Note or Teen Wolf.

Mello is kicking himself for not paying more attention.

“Mello,” Near outright _whines_.

Two nights ago, Near was bitten by an animal. He didn’t know what the animal was, and Mello hadn’t cared. The nurse had started a round of shots and put gauze on the small wound.

Yesterday, the wound had been completely gone, but Mello hadn’t taken a close look at it when it was there. He’d just assumed the skin hadn’t been broken.

Now, Near has golden eyes, a ridged forehead, pointed ears, and claws in the place of finger and toenails.

He’s standing shaking in Mello’s room and whining.

Mello vaguely wonders if he’s going to die.

“Mello must help me. Mello, Mello,” Near continually repeats.

 _If Roger blames me for this_ , Mello thinks.

He stands up, slowly walks over with his hands visible, and stops when he gets within touching difference. “Okay. You’re a werewolf. Didn’t think they actually existed before now.”

Near stares at him, and he’s used to dark black blankly accessing him, but the gold somehow makes Near’s eyes look bigger and more engaged. It’s strange and off-putting, and Roger is so going to kill him for this, he knows.

“Is it okay if I touch you, Near?”

Near makes an affirming, almost keening noise and juts his head forward slightly.

Keeping his touch light, Mello lets his hand rest on Near’s curls. He gently fists some, and when Near doesn’t show any reaction, he lets go, kneels down, and begins tracing Near’s face. “Open your mouth.”

Near complies, and Mello examines the sharp fangs. He touches one and lets his finger get down close to the sharp tip.

Then, he reaches for Near’s hands and twists the claws slightly. Looking down, he notes, “Your socks are ruined.”

Near doesn’t answer, and Mello supposes the shock of suddenly finding himself a supernatural, previously believed to mythical creature has temporarily curbed Near’s tendency to make slightly sarcastic retorts when Mello says something he finds trivial.

“Okay.” He stands. “I’m going to call Roger. Um, try not to change back to human until after he gets here.”

…

“Watari will be here in thirty hours,” Roger says. “Until then, we’ll need to keep him in isolation.” He looks down at the pictures he’s tried to take of Near and frowns. “I don’t know how well Linda would react, but we might have no choice but to see if she can do a sketch of him in his altered form.”

“We need to get him a dog tag,” Matt announces. “Hey, I guess you can finally get that leash you wanted for him, huh,” he adds with a look at Mello.

Nibbling on his chocolate, Mello wonders if he should ask to go back to bed.

Near hasn’t said much of anything. He’s sat quietly with his puzzle and occasionally twirled his hair.

This is nothing new, but Mello has an unfamiliar urge to try to draw him out. For all he doesn’t like Near, Near is still human- or at least, he hasn’t done anything to forfeit his humanity. He hasn’t hurt anyone; he just suddenly has the ability to change eye colours and sprout claws and fangs.

“Near,” he says.

Near looks up. “Mello.”

“How are you- how are you feeling about all of this?”

“My body is stronger,” Near answers. “Yet, the sensations are less.”

Mello takes note of the way Near is sitting. Rather than hunching and twisting a leg underneath him, he’s sitting cross-legged and mostly upright.

“Interesting,” he says, “but I meant: emotionally.”

“You’re much more neutral than you usually are when you’re trying to discern my emotional status,” Near comments.

His usual annoyance at anything involving Near comes back with a force, but he manages to restrain it with the comprehension, _Ah, there it is_ , floating across his brain. He realises he’s felt unsteady without it.

Sighing, he kneels down and ignores how everyone is looking at him. “You came to me, Near. It wouldn’t surprise me if, after that last moment of humanity, you went back to being heartless. But if it’s the opposite- if you’re scared or angry or confused or even happy, that’s okay. I’m not sure what you are. I’m not sure what you being this entails. What I am sure of is: You didn’t have a say in becoming this, and you becoming this doesn’t mean everyone gets to make all these decisions while you just sit there. Unless you want that. Or you hurt someone. Hurt someone, and I’ll put you down and not lose any sleep over it.”

“Mello,” Roger exclaims.

Near smiles slightly, and Mello shivers. “Mello is understood.” He scoots closer. “Everything is sharper, but when you touched me, it was more level.”

Trying to push his confusion away, Mello says, “Alright.” He sits down, reaches over, and puts his hand on Near’s head. “You need to learn how to describe your reaction to stimulus better.”

To his surprise, Near reaches up, wraps a hand around the wrist on his head, lies down on his back, leans his head back so his neck is lifted, and brings the hand back to his head.

“Huh, so, he really has turned into a dog,” Matt declares.

Roger sighs. “Near, Mello does have a point. You do have the right to have some say in how things are handled.”

“Isolation would be best,” Near says. “I can smell people. I don’t know how my other senses will react to them.”

“I’ll get some of your toys,” Matt offers.

“Thank you.”

Mello starts to move his hand, but Near’s eyes flash and he grabs the wrist. “Please, don’t stop, Mello.”

Letting out a sound of frustration, Mello finds himself reflecting, _Roger killing me would be preferable_.

….

After lessons, Mello goes to Roger’s room and sits down on the floor. “How you doing, Near?”

Near briefly looks up from the structure of cards he’s building. “Well. My sense of taste has sharpened. Unfortunately, a craving for meat has also popped up.”

“We’ll see if fake meat might work. Everyone’s curious about what’s going on with you. Linda’s worried.”

Linda, in fact, is operating under the impression he’s somehow responsible for whatever is going on with Near.

Normally, he’d readily admit the fairness of this -he’d probably be secretly insulted if he weren’t suspected, he knows-, but when he’s actually going against every normal instinct he has and trying to help Near, it’s a little hard to take.

“I want to play in the moon tonight,” Near announces.

“That’s- Roger will never allow it.”

“Do you think it a bad idea, Mello,” Near inquires.

“I- don’t know. We don’t know how you’re going to react to the moon.” He takes a bite of chocolate and leans back. “Why are you asking me?”

Near scoots over. “May I have a taste?”

Breaking of a small piece of the bar, Mello holds it out.

Near takes it and thoughtfully chews it. “It’s not to my taste.”

“Already knew that.”

After a moment of silence, Near asks, “Has Mello considered what this will do about L’s consideration for his eventual successor?”

“Yeah,” he answers. Standing up, he says, “Don’t worry, little Nia. This will likely give you even more of an advantage with those senses.”

He leaves.

…

Roger has these ideas about not bribing children, but apparently, the certified supernatural is enough to make him throw up his hands.

As Mello watches Near sitting the moonlight, he looks forward to triple-layer chocolate cake the bakery will deliver soon and wonders about God.

God knows everything, but He doesn’t necessarily approve of what happens and what will.

Thus, he knew Near would be turned into this, but was it His will? Is Near becoming this a sign of God’s blessing, curse, or just simply something that is?

There used to be a widespread belief freckles, warts, and any other blemishes were a sign of witchcraft or God’s disfavour, but now, most people are smart enough to realise nature doesn’t have a list of people God is unhappy with and is marking them. Aside from random bouts of strangeness and the rare miracle, nature is undiscriminating in who’s targeted and often only spares those who seek human intervention.

Nature made Near an albino.

Something else made Near golden-eyed and clad with the ability to kill via claws and fangs.

As if on cue, Near looks up from his racecars. He’s in his werewolf form.

Mello watches Near stand up and begins skipping over the strewn out cars.

“Careful of the pond,” Mello calls out.

In the moonlight, Near almost looks like the pictures of fays Mello had once seen in a fairy tale book, and it makes him shiver.

 _A child of the fay, that would be something_ , he reflects.

It’d make Near even more of a disconcerting threat.

Near begins climbing a tree.

Then, in a dizzying moment, Mello sees something, he hears Near’s scream, and he finds himself standing over Near. Near has an arrow in his right arm, and Mello doesn’t know how he came to be standing over Near’s wounded body, but he knows he didn’t put the arrow there.

He looks around and catches sight of a figure standing in the dark.

“Hey! Roger!” Being sure to keep his body so an arrow would have to go through him in order to potentially hit Near, he keeps calling and strides over.

“He’s a werewolf,” the figure tells him.

It’s a woman. She’s clad in black, her hair is under a knit cap hat, she keeps her bow at the ready, and her tone tells him she considers someone being a werewolf a legitimate reason for an adult to shoot a nine-year-old kid with a deadly weapon.

“You’re not from around here,” he says. “But I don’t care. No one hurts a Wammy and gets away with it. Not even that annoying brat I can’t stand most of time. His name is Near, and you will pay for what you’ve done to him.”

She scoffs.

He keeps glaring. 

…

Her name is Matilda Delacroix. She’s tall and well-built with dark, long blonde hair and hazel eyes. Her hair’s slightly wavy, and her skin is a tanned caramel shade.

Her weapons have been confiscated, but Mello has the uneasy feeling she could easy get out of the handcuffs around her wrists and ankles if she decided to.

Whilst Roger is almost screaming in the phone at Watari, Near wanders over and sits down in front of Delacroix’s chair.

Mello grabs one of the Chinese ring daggers they confiscated and walks over with it poised to stab her if she moves.

“Did you shoot me to protect Mello?”

“What,” Mello exclaims. “Near, first, I don’t need anyone to protect me from a sixty-pound boy who can’t even open a carton of milk. Second, she shot you with a deadly weapon. Even I wouldn’t go that far!”

“Mello is wrong about my weight. I weigh-”

“I’m a hunter,” Delacroix interrupts.

“We know that,” Mello snaps. “Most people hunt deer or birds. The ones who hunt humans, especially little kids-”

“Listen,” she says. “I hunt the supernatural. He’s not human, anymore. And I wasn’t going to kill him. He’s healed, hasn’t he? I deliberately shot where, once it was removed, he’d be fine.”

“You had no right to shoot him in the first place.”

“If she believed she was protecting a human, in this instance, you, Mello, she did,” Near replies.

Delacroix sighs. “Look, whenever there’s a new beta around, we go after them. We make sure they don’t hurt humans, and if possible, we temporarily bring them down. Give them an idea of what we’ll do if they ever hurt a human.”

“Beta,” Near repeats. “How did you know about me?”

“What exactly do you mean ‘temporarily bring them down’,” Mello demands.

“Mello,” Near says with an edge to his voice. “That is not what we need to be focusing on at the moment.”

“I should have let her kill you,” he snaps.

“I don’t kill indiscriminately,” she retorts. “We have a code.” She says something in French.

He translates it. _We hunt those who hunt us._

“Look, lady, Near here is the smartest person in this orphanage. Unless I manage to beat him, he’s going to be the successor to the world’s greatest detective someday. He’s amoral. He follows most of the rules just because it’s easier, but morality, immorality, those are just words to him. He doesn’t care about anyone. And sure, if he wanted to, he could hurt people.”

“But he wasn’t hunting you. He wasn’t hunting anyone. He hasn’t hurt anyone. All he was doing was climbing a fricking tree. That makes him just the same as more than half the kids here. We climb trees.”

She raises an eyebrow. “And having an amoral werewolf running about doesn’t scare you?”

“Not any more than having an amoral human did,” he answers. “Look, whatever Near does with his new powers, I refuse to let him or anyone else blame them. There’s always been something wrong with him, and there always will be.”

Surprisingly, she looks down and gives Near a sympathetic look.

Near stops twirling his hair and begins stacking a deck of cards. “What’s a beta? And how did you know about me?”

“Can I see your eyes? I mean, your werewolf ones?”

Near looks up and complies.

She exhales. “Alpha, beta, omega. Alphas can turn humans into werewolves. They have red eyes. Betas are part of an alpha’s pack, usually to the one who changed them. And omegas have no allegiance to any alphas. When it comes to betas and omegas, some have yellow, and some have blue. Hunters are in disagreement on the reason why, but personally, I’ve never come across a blue-eyed werewolf who hasn’t taken human life.”

“What makes an alpha,” Mello asks.

“Either they kill another alpha, or their alpha dies and the power decides to settle in them,” she answers.

“You killed the alpha who bit me,” Near deduces. “And you don’t know who became the new alpha.”

“Yes.”

“Was he or she hunting you,” Mello sarcastically inquires.

She gives him a sharp look. “He was biting people without consent. Your friend could have died.”

“He’s not my friend!”

“The bite doesn’t always take,” she continues. “The very lucky ones are somehow immune. The rest of them die a painful death. And maybe you don’t think any differently of him now that he’s got the bite, and I guess, in some ways, that’s admirable, but do you think it was right for someone to sink their teeth in him in the middle of the night? Do you think it was right he had no say in losing his humanity?”

“He hasn’t lost his humanity,” he says.

“Look, whatever your personal definition of humanity, he’s not human, and he had absolutely no choice in the matter. If you ask me, no nine-year-old kid, no matter how smart, could really give consent, but he wasn’t even offered the illusion of it.”

Before he can answer, she finishes, “So, yes, I killed him, and I don’t feel any guilt for it.”

“That’s a lie,” Near says.

The words are so calm and matter-of-fact it takes Mello a minute to process the meaning of them.

“Near?”

Looking at Delacroix, Near explains, “Her heartbeat and breathing changed, and I can smell- you do feel guilty. Your stomach is bothering you. I’m not sure what exactly I’m smelling, but my brain is translating them.”

She sighs and nods. “It’s a lie. But it’s one I need to tell myself. I truly believe I did the right thing in killing him, but killing is never easy. It shouldn’t be.”

Roger comes over. “Mello, Near, go to bed. I’ll call the police and tell them an armed intruder was found wandering the ground by one of the staff. We’ll discuss security measures once Watari finally arrives.”

“Werewolves will come,” Delacroix quickly says. “The alpha will come, and the other betas might, too. Look, whatever you think of me, I didn’t hurt this one,” she says with a jerk of her head towards Mello. “And Near can confirm whether I’m lying or not about anything.”

For some reason, hearing her say Near’s name doesn’t sit right with Mello, but he restrains himself from responding.

Roger rubs his head.

“Yes,” Near says. “It would be wise to keep her around. Aside from the fact this new alpha might bite more people, any werewolf is a potential danger to the students and facility here.”

“So is any nutso with a machine gun,” Mello mutters.

“It’s highly unlikely even the most well-connected criminal would be able to obtain a machine gun in England,” Near replies.

Mello is almost grateful for the sympathetic look Delacroix shoots him.

…

In the morning, Matt stares at Delacroix. “So, you really shot Near in the arm?”

“No thanks to you,” Mello grumbles.

Near twists from his place on the ground and opens his mouth, but Delacroix says, “He couldn’t have done anything more than you did. Could I have some more orange juice?”

Roger refills her cup and tells them, “Watari, unfortunately, is having trouble with customs.”

Kneeling down, Matt says, “Here, Near. Do you need some more milk in your rice?”

“Please,” Near agrees. He holds the bowl up.

“Rice,” Delacroix says. “He eats rice for breakfast. Tell me, is this new?”

“No,” Mello answers. “The majority of his diet is rice and milk. We make him eat some potato every day, and sometimes, he has some dried fruit for a snack.”

He jumps when Linda bursts in. “Roger, Melanie said that Near-”

She pauses and takes in Delacroix.

Mello belatedly realises a young woman being handcuffs, especially with no context, is likely to cause a meltdown.

“And that’s how I do it,” Delacroix says.

He’s looking at her standing up. The leg cuffs are still on, but the ones on the wrist have been discarded.

“Hi, sweetie,” she continues. “Are you here for the security demonstration?”

Linda blinks. “Oh, no. Um, I don’t normally burst in. I just came- Near!”

She kneels down and puts one hand on his forehead and the other on his neck. He squirms slightly but doesn’t pull away.

While she’s distracted, Mello rifles through Roger’s desk, finds a Tazer, slips it into his pocket, and goes to stand close to Delacroix.

“Near, are you okay? I haven’t seen you in days! Did Mello do something to you? Is it the bite or a reaction to the shots? Do you need to go to hospital? I can repaint the paediatrics ward, if you want, and I’m sure you can bring some of your toys. I’ll even make special nametags!”

Sighing, Roger leans down and picks Linda up.

Mello wonders why it took so long for him to react.

“Linda, Near’s fine. He’s just experiencing some extra sensitivity to the outside world.”

“Oh,” Linda says. She looks down apologetically at Near. “I didn’t think.”

“I’m fine,” Near says.

Roger sets her down, and she twitches. Then, her eyes land back on Delacroix. “Security? Are you here to make sure no one else gets hurt?”

“Something like that,” Delacroix answers. She sets down the rest of the handcuffs down on Roger’s desk. “We’re still not sure what attacked Near, but I promise you, no one else is going to get bitten.”

“That’s a relief,” Linda says. “But are you going to hurt them? Just like people can’t help doing bad things or don’t even realise they are, sometimes, it’s the same with dogs and bats and wolves.”

“I’m- going to try to catch whatever bit Near,” Delacroix answers. “And I’m going to find out if it needs to be put down or not. You can’t- always apply human treatment to other creatures.”

“But you can apply humane treatment, right? If you have to kill, you can do it as painlessly as possible, right?” Linda looks down at Near. “I know he shouldn’t have been bitten, but he’s okay, and if who- whatever bit him can be helped-”

Delacroix kneels down and smiles at Linda. “Sweetheart, I promise, if I catch whatever bit him, I’ll try not to kill them. It might have just been a lost, scared animal.”

“Okay,” Linda says with an exhale.

She turns to Mello, and he feels his guard rise. “Please, be nicer to Near, Mello. I imagine being bitten would be very scary.”    

Linda has her hair up in unplaited pigtails, and Matt reaches over and gently tugs one. “Hey, I’ll play peacemaker like usual, ‘kay?”

She nods and gives him a brief hug before turning to Roger. “I’m sorry for causing a commotion.”

“It’s okay,” Roger tells her with a soft look. “Why don’t you go back to breakfast, Linda?”

She nods and leaves.

Mello points at the chair and orders Delacroix, “Back.”

Once she’s re-cuffed, he says, “You told her you’d find what bit him. But you said you already had.”

“You want to try explaining things to that sweet little girl without giving anything away when you have no preparation?”

Mello supposes she has a point.

“Look, you are going to have to let me go soon or call the police,” she says. “You can’t keep me here indefinitely.”

“I’m going to discuss this more with Watari,” Roger says. “Near, will you be okay going back to class?”

“I believe so.”

“Matt, Mello, please escort him.”

…

When Watari arrives in Roger’s office, he absently smiles at them.

“Does L have any thoughts,” Mello inquires. “Will he talk to us?”

“This situation is far too trivial for him to concern himself,” Near declares.

Mello glares down at him. If he didn’t know Roger would cancel the cake order, he’d kick the toy robot out of Near’s hands.

He doesn’t even know why he got Near the stupid toy. Roger had insisted he had to get Near a present, and he had tried really hard to find the most insulting thing he could think that wouldn’t result in him losing all chocolate privileges. Finally, he’d decided the robot’s outside reflected Near’s inner nature.

And lo and behold, Near didn’t get the insult even after it was explained to him, and he totes the stupid thing almost everywhere.

Mello is half-tempted to think Near is deliberately taunting him.

“L thinks it best Miss Delacroix is released,” Watari tells Roger. “I’ll personally escort her off the premises.”

“Before you do, I need to ask her a few additional questions,” Near says.

“Very well,” Watari answers.

Near stands up. “Mello?”

He looks over. “What, Near?”

“Will you be accompanying me?”

“What? Why?”

“I thought her answers might interest you.”

“No,” he says. “I think I know everything I need to know right now.”

Near and Watari leave.

“Mello.”

Roger’s voice is even more tired than usual, and Mello feels a jolt of fear go through him.

“Roger? What is it?”

After what seems like minutes of Roger not answering, Mello finally prods, “Roger, what is it?”

“You know of Beyond Birthday?”

“Of course,” he answers. “We’ve all read about the case.”

He finds it a bit hard to believe, but Near turning into a werewolf has made it easier to accept the idea someone saw people’s lifespans over their heads.

“Yes, well-” Roger removes his glasses and wipes them. “No one’s sure if it was his preternatural ability that made him so- or if they merely exacerbated his problems or were entirely separate.”

“Okay,” Mello agrees. “What’s this leading to, Roger?”

Roger puts his glasses back on. “We’re concerned that Near- that is, if he should turn into a liability-”

Mello’s quickly puts the pieces together and doesn’t like the end result.

Of course, he wants to be L someday. Separate of this, he wants to beat Near for his own personal sense of triumph. And he’ll be the first to say Near being a cold, empathy-challenged brat does call into question how well Near could truly dedicate himself to bringing justice to the world.

Near isn’t anything like Beyond Birthday, though. If being a werewolf hasn’t made him crazy and violently sadistic by now, it likely never will, and Mello doesn’t want Near disqualified from the race because he happens to share something in common with an undesirable former contender.

Going by this reasoning, his own worship of L should make him suspect, he knows.

“Do you think that’s fair,” he demands.

Roger looks at him in surprise. “No,” is the quiet answer. “But I try not to involve myself in the decisions L and Watari make regarding you children.”

“Then, why did you tell me this?”

“Because,” Roger answers, “I feel a certain amount of sympathy for Near. I’d hoped, if you knew, you might endeavour to be kinder to him.”

“Hmm,” Mello responds.

…

Mello knocks on the door.

“Mello?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he answers.

“Come in.”

He comes in, moves enough toys to make space, and sits down on the floor. Near doesn’t have a desk or chair, and his bed is one step above a crib; Mello’s afraid his weight might break it.

“Roger told me there’s concern about you being like B.B.”

“I suppose that pleases you,” is Near’s neutral response.

Mello growls. “You don’t know me at all, if you think that, Near.”

Near looks up and stares.

Rolling his eyes, Mello slouches down. “Look, Near- I want to be L someday. But if I win, I want to win fairly. And you did come to me. So, if you need help with this whole being a werewolf thing, I’ll help. I won’t go easy on you, though, when it comes to the other things, and I know you well enough to know that you won’t on me, either.”

Near smiles. “I accept your offer, Mello.”

He nods.

“I had trouble earlier,” Near continues. “Some of the smells were overwhelming.”

“Well, you didn’t show it. That’s good. Tell me about it, and we can try to think of some options.”

Picking up his toy robot, Near lies down, scoots over, and nudges Mello’s hand with his head.

“You really are showing some canine like tendencies,” Mello comments. He puts his fingers through Near’s curls. “Why don’t you just twirl your own hair like normal?”

“I told you, your touch helps me.”

“Why?”

“You’re an anchor,” Near states.

“Huh?”

“Delacroix told me that some werewolves can control their impulses by concentrating on something or someone. Mello dislikes me, but instinctively, I knew he wouldn’t react too unfavourably to my new status. And I was right; you didn’t. I suppose, in some ways, this makes you an ally.”

“Huh,” Mello repeats. He’s not sure how he feels about this revelation. “Anyway, what happened today?”

…

On Saturday, Matt holds out a wristband to Near. “Alright, this should record your vitals.”

When Near takes it, he rifles through his desk and withdraws a game console. Holding it out to Mello, he says, “Here. I’ve modified it so you can read them in real time. Of course, the battery still isn’t good, and you need to be within about five feet, but it’s a start. The stuff I got Roger to order should be here soon.”

The wristband hits the floor, and Near frowns. He picks it up, and Mello immediately sees he’s probably never going to get it on by himself.

“Work on a wristband that can be slipped on,” he tells Matt. Reaching over, he says, “Here, Near. I’ll do it.”

Once it’s on, Mello turns on the console. “Everything looks normal. Ready to go to the rec room?”

Near nods.

…

Mello decides he’s going to have Matt do this next time.

Instead of playing football outside, he’s watching Near’s almost constant vitals. So far, he’s learned people with perfume cause a mild spike.

He yawns, and the vitals blip.

Looking up, he sees Linda has come over to Near. “Hey, Near. I’m glad you’re doing better.”

As far as Mello knows Linda doesn’t wear perfume, she bathes regularly, and like Near, her diet is on the mild side. Could Near’s personal feelings towards her be causing the change?

“I can smell the paint on your clothes,” Near says. “It’s nice.”

“Oh, thank you,” Linda says. “It’s a special type Roger found for me. The regular brands always caused reactions. Would you like me to paint you something, Near?”

“No, thank you.”

She nods. “Alright. If you need anything, let me know.”

As she wanders off, Near’s vitals return to normal.

Rolling his eyes, Mello goes over and sits down. Near’s vitals spike but only for a brief second.

When Mello’s done checking the batteries, Near hands him a deck of tarot cards. “I can tell which is which without looking.”

“Near, no matter what your new gifts, no one can do that.”

“I can,” is Near’s neutrally insistent response.

“We’ll see,” he declares.

…

When he’s playing video games with Matt, he rants, “This doesn’t make sense. I made sure there were no mirrors. He doesn’t actually have x-ray vision, but I made sure something was firmly pressed against the back. I had Kyle do it with his eyes closed so that Near couldn’t see a reflection from the irises. I thought maybe he was reading body language or facial cues, but when Kyle couldn’t see and I didn’t look until after he said it, that rules that out. He swears the deck isn’t marked in anyway.”

“Maybe he’s just a little psychic,” Matt suggests. 

“I’m buying another deck next weekend,” he says. “And I’ll make good and sure there’s no way he can know.”

…

Insight hits him when Linda doesn’t even glance at him at breakfast.

He suddenly realises he’s been staying close to Near for almost a month, and though he still insults Near, it’s different.

It didn’t take long to get used to Linda’s suspicious, vaguely threatening looks. Her only defence against bullies is to scream and to tell an adult, but the one thing he’s always respected about her through his exasperation is: she will not hesitate to use either, especially if Near is the target.

In the past, she’d scold him for his unkind words, but once he started willingly putting himself physically close to Near, the looks had started.

Now, they’re gone, and he wishes she hadn’t made him realise this on the night of Near’s first full moon as a werewolf.

No one knows how Near is going to react, and he can’t in good conscience not try to help ensure no one, including Near himself, is hurt.

He doesn’t want people to forget he despises Near, though. He doesn’t want to be known as Near’s personal protector, or even worse, as some kind of friend.

…

“Mello has been avoiding me,” Near comments.

“Yeah, well, I’m here, now,” he snaps. He looks over at Matt. “Got the chains?”

Roger twitches.

“If you’d help us get wolfs bane and mountain ash, we might not have to do this,” Mello irritably points out.

Most aconitum is poisonous to humans; from what Mello and Near have read, it has a lesser but still significant effect on werewolves. Roger’s refusal to bring it in ranges from: for all they know it could kill Near to he has young children with a talent for getting past the most secure locks and child-proofing under his care.

Sorbus scopulina supposedly has the ability to somehow restrain werewolves, but since this information came from a blog most likely belonging to some young kid, Mello can’t actually blame Roger for not trying to obtain some.

“Yeah,” Matt answers. He gives Near a sympathetic look. “I kept them wrapped in blankets, so they won’t be cold, and I’ll try to keep them from touching your skin.”

“I appreciate your consideration,” Near replies.

They get Near chained to the bed, and Mello will privately admit he likes seeing this as much as Roger does.

Mello sits down on the floor and moves so his hair is within reach of Near’s fingers. “If you want you can twirl my hair,” he offers.

Gentle fingers immediately latch on.

“Will Mello say his prayers out loud?”

“Alright,” he answers. Taking a breath, he starts with his favourite, “Angel of God, my Guardian dear, to whom God's love commits me here, ever this night be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide. Amen.”

“Saint Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be…”

…

“… To thee do we cry, poor, banished children of Eve-”

Suddenly, Matt lunges, grabs him, and yanks him up.

Blinking, Mello turns and sees Near’s claws are slicing through the air where Mello’s head was just seconds ago.

“Thank you,” he breathes out.

Matt nods and gives him a wry smile.

Roger’s lips tighten even more.

Near is fully in werewolf form, and he’s growling.

“Near,” Mello starts.

Near turns golden eyes towards him. “Mello will never receive higher test scores than me. It’s simply a fact. But I suppose-”

Mello’s anger is headed off by the annoyance and slight amusement at Matt clapping his hands over Mello’s ears.

The bed rattles, and Mello bats the hands away. He reaches into his pocket and feels a mixture of relief and uneasiness when he feels his fingers make contact with the cold, silver blade.

It’s Linda’s. Her mom gave it to her, and she sometimes uses it for her art projects. When he’d seen her wielding it earlier in the day, he’d realised how good of a weapon it could be if needed and asked to borrow it.

She’d easily handed it over.

He desperately prays he doesn’t have to use it. The thought of cutting flesh- the thought of cutting Near’s thin, delicately sensitive, albino pale flesh-

Lesser of his concerns but still persistent is: Of course, he’d clean the blade thoroughly before giving it back, but Linda has so little in the way of physical connections to her dead mother. He doesn’t want to turn this gift of affection into a weapon with the permanent taint of a classmate’s blood, especially one she worries herself over.

However, as soon as his fingers wrap around the hilt, he knows, if he has to, he most definitely will use it, because, he’d rather have Near’s blood tainting the blade than the blood of Linda or one of the little kids or, worst of all, Matt tainting the ground.

“Mello is afraid,” Near announces through his growly pants. His eyes catch Mello’s. “I don’t mind if you kill me. You’ll do much crueller once you get older and smarter, Mero.”

Mello’s sure Matt and Roger are just as lost as he is, but Matt is making tentative movements towards Near and Roger’s on the phone.

Then, Near breaks through the chains.

“I know your name.”

Near says it challengingly, but the only thing preventing Mello from rolling his eyes is the knowledge taking his eyes off Near for one second could be deadly.

He’s not exactly thrilled Near figured out his birth name, but he’s never particularly understood why L insisted on choosing a new one for him. Names having power has never been a concept he could fully grasp. A tired nun in a rundown hospital gave his first name to him, and his surname is of a man who never claimed him and might not have even been the one whose sperm played a part in his conception.

 _Mello_ is the name he was baptised under.

Suddenly, he has a sixty-pound werewolf is on his chest with fangs in his face.

 _Beta or omega,_ he reminds himself. _He can’t turn me into a werewolf_.

 _No,_ another thought comes, _he can just kill or horribly maim me. At least, if I were a werewolf, I might heal, might survive._

The knife is close to Near’s ribs, and Mello suddenly remembers one of the kids in Sunday school once talked at length about the centurions stabbing Jesus’s ribs as He hung on the cross.

Mello isn’t sure if it actually happened or was just something the kid decided for herself, but thinking about it now is discomforting.

Near leans closer. “Mello, if I tell you-”

Then, Near is lifted up, and Mello scrambles up.

Matt has Near in a chokehold with one hand, his elbow digging into Near’s stomach, and the other hand against Near’s mouth. Mello sees in relief Matt has torn up the sheets and heavily wrapped said hand.

“Look, Near,” Matt says, “maybe you’re old enough to handle that sort of thing, but he isn’t. Give him a few years, okay?”

“Not old enough,” Mello repeats. “Are you talking about me? I’m almost two years older than him, and I’d like not to be killed or maimed in a few years!”

Near’s gold eyes are still blazing, but he’s much stiller.

“If I sit you down, are you going to settle,” Matt asks.

Near makes a motion with his hands.

“He wasn’t- he didn’t want to kill anyone, least of all you,” Matt says. “He’s just- well, he was a little angry and scared and lashed out. And might of done some other things but nothing unforgivable.”

“What other things,” Mello demands.

Matt shrugs and gives a shaking Near a small smile. “Want Mello to touch you?”

Near keens.

Sighing, Mello makes sure the knife is accessible to him but not easy for Near to take and walks over.

…

When Near falls asleep and Roger goes to update Watari, Mello demands, “How do you know what’s going on with Near? What’s going with Near?”

Matt shrugs and withdraws his Gameboy. “You and he have a complicated relationship. And that came out magnified tonight. Don’t expect me to try to figure it out, yeah?”

While this makes sense, Mello has a niggling feel Matt knows more than he’s willing to say.

…

Near is stirring his milk-covered rice in the corner and staring down at the carpet.

Thankful none of the others have noticed, Mello sits down beside him. “How are you coping?”

“I have felt everything I felt last night,” Near informs him. “But never to such a level. Do people who are more emotional than I feel such intensity?”

“Sometimes,” Mello answers. “Some people, yes. Other people, no. Near-” He drops his voice a little more. “Look, you’ll be the first to call me overly-emotional. And-”

“I’ve commented that some of your reactions were overly-emotional,” Near interrupts.

“There’s really not a difference,” Mello retorts. Seeing Near’s about to respond, he quickly says, “Never mind that, Near. Let me make my point. I know that I mishandle things. I’ll try, but most of the time, I find myself reacting before I can tell myself to calm down and approach things logically. But when I’m violent, it’s always for a reason. I’ve never physically lashed out at you, right?”

“Correct,” Near responds.

Quietly, Mello finishes, “Werewolf or human, you’re naturally more controlled than I am. If I can restrain myself when it’s important, so can you.”

Near makes a small sound. He twirls his hair and says, “I didn’t feel victimised by the bite. Though they were a bit overwhelming, I enjoyed my heightened senses. It was- nice to feel a sense of strength going through my body. I didn’t give much thought to the creature who did this to me.”

“Last night, however, was unacceptable. Whoever it was had no right to inflict such a thing on me.”

Nodding, Mello leans back and digs out his chocolate bar. “So, how’s the best way for you to start healing?”

Near looks at him and tilts his head.

“The person, the creature, however you want characterise the alpha, they’re dead. As far as we know, there’s no cure for lycanthropy. We can try to find other werewolves, if you want. Or we can try to find hunters who don’t do things like shoot little kids. If you have another idea, I’ll listen. The fact the alpha didn’t have the right to do this doesn’t change the fact it happened; it doesn’t change the fact you have to live with it.”

“Do I?”

Mello glares. “Try to kill yourself, Near, and I’ll dissect you myself.”

Near’s normally impassive faces go through several different expressions rather quickly; some are comical, some are hard to decipher, and one of them Mello is positive he imagined. “That makes absolutely no sense,” he finally says. 

“I don’t care if you bow down to God or not,” Mello declares. “I don’t care what you think about the laws regarding suicide and euthanasia. But you won’t do something like that while I’m around. No one here will, if I can help it, and trust me, I’d be pretty good at finding ways to help it, if I needed to.”

Near smiles slightly. “I wasn’t pondering such a thing.”

Mello breathes out a sigh of relief and quickly feels annoyance replace it.

“I was remembering Mello’s declaration he’d ‘put me down’ if I hurt people.”

“Well, I meant if you were absolutely unmanageable and severely hurting people. You didn’t get anywhere close to that last night. Besides,” he adds, “if I kill you, I’ll definitely lose any chance of ever beating your scores.”

“I need to get some of my toys,” Near declares.

Mello reaches out to stop him. “Eat your breakfast, first.”

Near complies.

… 

At lunch, he sits down with Near and Matt.

“Here.” Matt he holds out a plate of brown, somewhat slimy-looking food to Near. “It’s seitan.”

Near takes a small bite, nods, and moves his rubber ball so he can set the plate in his lap. “Would you like some, Mello?”

“No,” he answers.

“I didn’t answer Mello’s question earlier about the best way to heal.”

Once Matt is brought up to speed, Near continues, “All I need is to learn a new sense of control. The past is done.”

“Maybe Linda could paint Roger’s room or yours,” Mello suggests. He pours chocolate syrup on his crisps. “The smell might help ground you. And maybe I shouldn’t be there toni-”

“Objection,” Matt protests through a mouthful of tomato soup.

Rolling his eyes, Mello reaches over to wipe Matt’s face. “I’d be nearby, just not in-”

Matt swallows and declares, “No. Last night wasn’t good, but it would’ve been worst if you weren’t there. Near, you don’t have to go into detail, but back me up here.”

“I might be an anchor sometimes, but last night, I was a trigger,” Mello says.

“No,” Near says, and Mello is confronted by the surreal realisation there’s a note of discomfort in Near’s voice. “I wanted to hurt certain people. Your presence did trigger certain negative feelings, but I was focused more on you than them. I didn’t want to harm you in the same way I did them.”

“Alright,” Mello says. “So, Linda painting?”

…

When he goes into Near’s room, his eyes are drawn to the black patterns scattered across the white walls.

There are still significant chunks of white space left, and Mello hopes she doesn’t get done for another day or two. She’s been so caught up in her excitement at Near’s request and in her efforts to carry it out she hasn’t even asked Mello about her knife.

Roger sits stiffly in the chair’s he brought, and Mello is stuck with a feeling of guilt for all the trouble he’s caused over the years. Roger probably doesn’t like any of the orphans with the exception of Linda, but he could have handled this situation in so many different ways. Most of these ways would have ended up with Near in an even worse situation or with the other orphans in even more danger.

Instead, he’s risking his life and giving up another night of sleep and has given up the space and privacy of his room more than once and risked damage to it, and he’s done all this without complaint in order to help three students and keep the rest safe.

Mello decides he’ll try much harder in the future not to cause so much trouble.

“One of the gamers I know online recommended this,” Matt says. He hands Near a sippie cup. “Careful, it’s supposed to be really bitter. It was also supposed to be hot, but if it really works for helping with sleep, it should work at room temperature.”

Once Near has drank the tea and is chained to the bed, he says, “Mello, explain the theory of intercession.”

“Near, I’m not getting into a theological debate with you. If you’re interested, read about it yourself.”

“I have,” Near answers. “I would like to hear Mello’s thoughts.”

Sighing, he starts to retort but stops when he sees how Near’s fingers are twitching without any toys or hair to occupy them.

“Well, there are different kinds. There’s praying for someone else, and then, there’s asking a saint or an angel or another dead person to- I guess the best word would be petition God on your behalf. One thing the Reformists were absolutely right about is that a person doesn’t need rituals or priests or even saints and angels to have a relationship with God.”

“Then, why is Mello Catholic,” Near asks in a tone of simple curiosity.

Both Roger and Matt give Mello a cautious look. He rolls his eyes and waves his hands at them. “For some people-” He hesitates. “For some people, being accountable only to God is enough to keep them on the right side. For others, like me, the rituals, priests and nuns, and prayers of intercession make it easier for me.”

“Do you ever pray for others?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “I pray for people all over the world, and I pray for certain people I know, but I’m not telling you who.”

Even with Near being able to detect lies, if push came to shove, Mello would flat out lie and answer ‘no’ if asked if he’d ever prayed for Near. 

“Do you pray for good or bad for these people?”

Disbelief floods him. “What in the- that- Near, you don’t pray for bad things to happen to people!”

“Mello is certainly more knowledge than I am on the subject of religion, but from what I know of human-”

“Alright, let me rephrase that,” he grumbles. “Yeah, there are people who do. No, I’m not one of them. To me- that’s the antithesis of everything prayer is supposed to be. I pray for peace over the world, but I don’t pray for dictators to be killed. I pray for criminals to be brought to justice, but I don’t pray for bad things to happen to them in jail or for the officers to hurt them. I’ve prayed to beat you on tests, and I’ll admit I’ve _wished_ bad things on you, but I’ve never _prayed_ for anyone or anything to harm you.”

Roger doesn’t look happy.

“I’m human, Roger,” he points out. “I wish bad things on dictators and violent criminals, too. A lot of people do.”

“That’s true,” Matt says with a nod. “The really important thing is that he usually doesn’t do more than wish.”

“The really important thing,” Mello corrects, “is that I don’t pray for things I know are the opposite of what God wants and stands for.”

Near yawns and blinks golden eyes.

“You need the lights off, Near,” Matt offers.

Near doesn’t reopen his eyes, and eventually, despite the coffee-infused chocolate he eats, Mello falls asleep, too. 

…

A few days after Near’s third month of being a werewolf, Mello finds him sitting under a tree the day Mello is set to play in a football match against some kids from a nearby school named Edison.

“Near?”

Near looks up, and his eyes flash briefly.

Kneeling down, Mello asks, “What’s wrong?”

“When I went into the rec room, I felt something odd. I can’t say for sure, but I think what I was sensing was the presence of another werewolf.”

Mello knows he was going to win the match today.

He knows it.

“Alright,” he says. “There are ten Edison kids on the team. I don’t know how many of their friends and family are here, but go try to keep an eye on them and everyone else outside. I’ll tell Roger. We can say there’s a report of a dangerous criminal or something like that. I don’t know if we can get the whole town locked down, but we can make sure Wammys is.”

“I could be wrong,” Near says.

He shrugs. “Then, we caused a little bit of uneasiness everyone could have done without. They’ll get over it. If you’re not, we have to find out if someone else here has been turned and how to help them, or we have to make sure no else is or is hurt otherwise.”

Near nods, stands, and wanders off.

…

As Mello, Matt, and Roger are checking the doors and windows, Linda follows Roger around. “But, Roger, I don’t care if there’s a wolf out there. Non-domesticated wolves avoid human populations, and I’ll stay close to the building. You promised I could sketch-”

“Linda, we don’t know where this wolf came from or if it’s rabid or not.”

“The population of rabid bats is only-”

“Linda, you are not…”

“Here,” Matt whispers.

Ignoring the twinge of guilt he feels, Mello accepts the silver knife and slips it into his pocket.

“Fine, but if I can’t do my sketch, I’m staying up and repainting the nurse’s office tonight, and someone had better be very sick if they interrupt my work,” Linda declares.

“Of course,” Roger says. “I’m sure you’ll make it lovely.”

Linda storms off.

Mello finishes checking the fire escape and desperately hopes Linda’s renovation doesn’t require the use of her knife.

…

“I’ve come into contact with every orphan and present teacher,” Near says. “The feeling never came back.”

“Okay,” Matt says. “Even if one of them was bitten, the alpha was killed, and they became one, I doubt they’d be able to mask their presence so quickly.”

“But if there is an alpha running around out there, they might have deliberately let Near sense them,” Mello points out.

He looks out the window.

“Mello is considering going out there,” Near says.

“What if there’s a werewolf who needs help? What if they were only checking on you, Near? Us locking down Wammys- it’s necessary. But I’m not sure if we should automatically assume this other werewolf, if they exist, is an enemy.”

“I’ll go with you,” Matt offers. “But, Near, you’re staying.”

“I am stronger and smarter than both of you,” is Near’s matter-of-fact reply. “Your worry is unfounded.”

“You might also be able to sense this werewolf,” Mello says. “But Matt’s right. You’re clever, Near, and stronger than you look. And except for your first full moon, you’ve never had a violent bone in your body.”

“You’ve called me sadistic, cruel, and devoid of empathy in the past, Mello.”

The sound of the window shattering causes Mello to freeze for a second, and then, he finds himself knocked into a wall.

 _So much for bulletproof glass_ , is his first coherent, dazed thought.

He stands up, walks over to Matt, and quickly searches him for injuries.

“’m a’ight,” Matt mumbles.

Helping him stand, Mello notices Near is nowhere in sight.

Cursing spill from his lips, he starts leading Matt.

The rec room has windows. Most of the student’s room have windows; he doesn’t know if this constitutes irony or not, but Near’s is one of the few without. The nurse’s office has a window.

If a werewolf can get through bulletproof glass, they can get through a regular human door.

 _Near might already be dead_ , he realises with a pang.

 _Well, too bad_ , he firmly tells himself. _The others are more important._

Someone comes around a corner and stops in front of them.

Mello immediately takes in the inhumanly blue eyes.

“Hey,” she says, and it might just be her accent, but her voice comes across as gentle. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. And,” she adds, “that knife in your pocket won’t do much, if any damage to me. My friends just want to talk to yours. All the children here are safe.”

Matt makes a sound of disbelief.

Mello carefully sets him down against the wall and makes himself stand as tall as possible as he looks her in the eyes. She’s skinny with straggly, black hair and almond-shaped eyes and doesn’t look to be in her twenties, yet. Some part of him wonders if she grew up in bad circumstances, killed, and then, later on, received the bite.

Praying his vitals don't betray him, he snaps, “Near is a child."

He hardly ever thinks of Near as a child.

“He’s only nine. All he does is play with toys and study. The most adventurous thing he’s ever done was try to climb a tree. The sun doesn’t burn him anymore and his eyes are stronger, but he’s still an albino. He’s a vegetarian. If your pack or alpha or whoever it is that took him just wanted to talk, they could have done it without all this.”

She flinches.

Matt stands up and waves Mello away. “He’s right, you know. Mello doesn’t even like Near, but when Near was bitten, we helped him. You and the others must have been watching us for a while, at least. You should know we probably couldn’t hurt any of you, even if we wanted to. Which we don’t. Or didn’t, depending on what you’ve done with him. You could have just come up and talked to him.

“We’re wasting time,” Mello mutters. “Matt, try to protect the others. If she’s telling the truth, it shouldn’t be hard. I’m going to find Near.” Looking at her, he says, “Try and stop me, and we’ll see if this knife is useless or not.”

“No way,” Matt protests. “You know I’d never let you go on an adventure without me.”

She sighs. “I can’t let y’all go alone.”

“Try and stop us,” Mello snaps.

…

As they walk, Mello starts to wonder what precisely he was thinking.

If Near is alive ( _Mary, Mother of God, Saint Michael, any angel or saint who might be listening, I beseech you, intercede on his behalf; keep him safe and alive_ ) and berates him for his utter stupidity, he isn’t going to be able to argue. Going out into the dark night with a werewolf who might be a killer and leaving an orphanage full of children behind in the process-

“So, I’m Matt. This is Mello. Uh, this may seem kind of strange, but none of us actually have last names. You have a name?”

“I’m Sara,” she answers. “I don’t have a last name, either.”

They come into the park Mello was supposed to have his match in, and under the streetlights, he sees Near sitting on the cold ground and looking up at semi-circle of blue and yellow-eyed werewolves along with one blonde woman with red eyes.

Near looks over, and an odd smile comes across his face when his eyes land on Mello.

“You shouldn’t have brought him here, Sally,” the alpha says. “This one is troublesome enough.”

“Don’t call me that, Lucille.”

Lucille shrugs.

Then, she leans down and puts her claws dangerously close to Near’s neck. “Last chance, little one. Join my pack, or,” and suddenly, Mello and Matt are surrounded, “they both die.”

“No!” Sara looks around wildly and squeezes past the crowd. “Lucille, please, you know better than-”

Five deep scratches are left on Sara’s face in the wake of Lucille’s claws, and Mello feels his stomach clench.

“You’re not a fighter, Sara. You never have been. Stand back and shut up.”

Sara shifts. “I can kill you just like I killed them, if I have to.”

“You got lucky as a human. No worthless beta-”

Mello cries out when bright light suddenly blinds him.

He thinks he hears the sound of arrows being fired.

Near’s hand slips into his, and he lets himself be led.

…

When his eyes readjust, he holds up a badly swaying Matt and sees Near and Delacroix are okay.

Delacroix sees him looking and scowls. “Three American agencies have me on their watchlists, I’ve been barred from entering France, and all my luggage keeps getting lost.”

“I told you I’d make you pay,” he replies.

The luggage isn’t his fault, but he’ll happily take credit for it and never, ever let her know.

She sighs and adjusts her crossbow. “Let’s go. I’m taking you three back to the orphanage.”

“What are you doing here, anyways,” Matt inquires.

“Good question.” Sara appears from the dark. “Looking for me, Matilda?”

Delacroix aims her crossbow. “Still the same reckless, careless punk as always,” she hisses. “There’ll never be a day you don’t end up throwing your lot in with the worst.”

“And there will never be a day when the death of three hunters who trusted you will stop being your fault,” is Sara’s cold response.

As intense, vile words and wishes fall from Delacroix’s mouth, Mello drags Matt and Near away from the two and watches as the crossbow is pressed against Sara’s neck while Sara’s claws rest against Delacroix’s neck.

“Alright,” Matt whispers with a tight grip on Mello’s shoulder, “look, I don’t want to die out here because you two fight over test scores. I can’t think of any way out of this. Work together and think of something to get us out of this mess.”

Near steps forward. “You’re emotionally disturbing Matt and Mello.”

The two women spring apart.

“I’ll deal with you, later,” Delacroix declares.

“Fine with me,” Sara says. “Maybe you’ll finally end up going the way most of the women in your family go.”

Delacroix utters a curse, looks at Matt, and says, “Better than yours. Carry the kid.”

Carefully but with seemingly not effort, Sara picks Matt up. “He has the same hair colour as that wife of your cousin’s. Heard they had a little girl. I give the kid ‘til she’s seventeen and Mama slides a knife into herself. Then, the little one will grow up, and history will repeat.”

“At least, none of my family will ever be dead by my hands.”

“Oh, don’t be too sure. Those three, them being family wouldn’t have saved them from your…”

“Does Mello still have the knife,” Near asks.

“Yeah.”

“If not for Matt, would Mello have any objections to leaving them to fend for themselves?”

He represses a laugh and answers, “I should, but the truth is, no.”

As they walk, Sara and Delacroix continue rehashing history. Mello keeps his eyes roaming and only takes an interest when he hears a particularly creative insult or threat.

When they get within eyesight of Wammys, he sighs in relief.

The growl he hears makes him want to cry.

…

“Got the knife,” the werewolf holding him announces. “Are you sure you want to do this, Lucy? He’s more controllable than the snow kid-”

Mello kicks as hard as he can manage. “I am not!”

“And with him-”

“No,” Lucille interrupts. She looks down at Mello with sharp, hard, red eyes, and he hates himself for the flinch he can’t repress. “Brandon wanted Near. This boy is nothing but a pestering abscess.” She leans down and places her claws on his restrained arm.

 _Brachial artery_ , he realises. _Death in less than a minute_.

“Pray that Near accepts his place so that your ginger friend will be spared,” she tells him.

Mello prays-

There’s several howls, a flash of white, blood on his arm, and he blinks to find Near sitting on top of Lucille. Her hand, the one with claws ready to kill him, he sees, is bleeding, and he notices, despite her still being in werewolf form, her claws are missing.

Trying not to shake, he carefully touches his arm.

When he doesn’t die, he looks around and sees the claws on the ground.

 _He must have managed to move the hand away without the claws sinking in, and then, declawed her fingers_ , Mello realises.

Looking back up, he sees the beta is holding Near as Lucille stalks over.

She has him on his back in seconds flat, and she begins to bring her other hand to his throat.

There’s a cry of pain, another flash of white, and suddenly, she’s off him.

He quickly sits up and sees she and Near have landed into a tree. She pushes him off, stands, and declares, “I will kill him, if it’s the last thing I do.”

“No.” Near sinks his claws into her legs.

She falls, and Mello watches Near’s hand rise. Four thin, almost symmetrical lines of red appear across Lucille’s throat.

She gapes, stumbles back against the tree, slides down, and by the time her bottom hits the ground, her human eyes are devoid of any life.

It takes a long moment for Mello to remember he needs to breath and several more seconds before he finally gasps and sways at the sensation of air filling his protesting lungs. 

By the time he does, Lucille’s body and the other werewolf are gone.

Wiping away his tears and taking another deep breath, Mello goes and leans down next to Near.

Near’s eyes are firmly closed, and he’s shaking.

“Near,” he says as gently as he can manage. “You okay?”

“No,” Near gasps out. “My eyes a-are di-different, Mero.”

Fear goes through Mello.

To say he’s never heard Near mangle a word is inaccurate. There have been rare instances of Near having trouble with pronunciation, and Mello has never tried to prove or disprove the idea, but he sometimes thinks ‘Mero’ came from Near mangling Mello’s name when they were younger.   

However, it isn’t inaccurate to say he’s never heard Near stutter or stammer.

When he’s had trouble with words in the past, there was never any nervousness or fear in Near’s tone. It was simply his vocal cords and lips not being physically up to the newest challenge.

 _Matt might still be alive_ , he suddenly thinks. _And I guess I should try to check on Delacroix, too._

Reaching over, he puts his hand on Near’s shoulder. “We’ll deal with it. Like we did when you were first bitten. We need to find Matt, so, open your eyes and let me see, Near.”

Near turns his head and opens his eyes.

Red eyes dominate his face.

The awareness Lucille is undeniably dead almost causes Mello to reach out and hug Near.

Instead, he squeezes the shoulder. “Thank you.”

He knows it’s inadequate.

There are people in the world who make the conscious decision to pick up a weapon and kill in order to protect others, and unfortunately, some of them are kids even younger than Near. Even more unfortunately, for everyone involved, most of those younger kids have the natural disposition to do such things; if they’d grown up in a better environment, they still might have made the decision as an adult.

He knows it’s inadequate – _thank you for managing to perform an act that goes against everything inside you-_ , but he’s alive, he’s alive because of Near, and he never truly knew how much he feared death until he was granted a reprieve.

He knows it’s inadequate, but for once, he actively prays for Near to be logical and emotionless. He prays Near’s indifferent nature will hold and Near will never think of what he’s done with anything but clinical objectivity.

Near turns slightly. “Matt.”

A second later, Delacroix appears with Matt half-stumbling in her arms.

She gets him to the tree, sets him down, and looks down at the two.

“Wonderful,” is her toneless response when she takes in Near’s eyes.

“The others have all gone,” Sara announces.

Mello yelps and wonders where she came from and how long she’s been around.

Kneeling down in front of Matt, she sighs, braces herself, and cups his cheek.

Mello watches in confusion as black veins appear on her arms and she shudders in pain as Matt starts to slump over.

Near raises his hand and moves it towards her arm, but Delacroix catches his wrist and gives them a puzzled look.

“Oh,” she says. “You don’t know. Cripes, this is why I hate the idea of omegas.”

“I’m taking away his pain,” Sara says. She moves her hand and slumps down herself. “It’s something we can do.”

Mello feels Near’s hand pressed insistently against his face, and suddenly, the pain he’d been ignoring starting with the window breaking and onwards begins to lessen and vanish.

He takes a breath, reaches up, and pushes Near’s hand away. “I’m fine. Don’t hurt yourself.”

…

While Delacroix is talking to Roger, Sara sits on the floor of Mello’s room across from Near, Mello sits against the wall on his bed, and Matt lies curled up next to him.

“Matilda will tell you this, and it’s important you listen. Don’t _ever_ bite someone without consent. Even if someone you love is lying dying or is so sick they can’t be reached, unless they can say yes- you’ll have to let them be. And-” She hesitates. “If you do decide to offer the bite to people, wait until you’re eighteen, okay?”

Near nods.

She holds something out, and Mello leans forward to see it’s five claws. “Here,” she says. “Keep them somewhere safe. I don’t know what use they might be, but there’s always a chance they might be.”

Leaning down, Mello swipes them. “I’ll handle it.”

Nodding, she starts to leave but stopes. “One more thing.”

“Yes,” Near prompts.

“Years ago, there was an alpha in this area. She could turn into a full wolf. Not many can. The Argents, a family kin to Delacroix, supposedly hunted her down. Personally, I think she’s dead, but Lucille didn’t. Whatever the full story, that family will never tell it, and if she’s still out there, she’s doing a very good job of staying off everyone’s radar.”

“Were they right to hunt her down,” Near inquires.

Sara shrugs. “There’s their story, and there’s hers. I’m biased.”

“Unsurprising,” is Delacroix’s cold response.

Sara stands up, turns slightly, and lets her eyes turn blue. “The difference between sinners and saints isn’t that one is forgiven and the other isn’t, Matilda. The difference is: One is marked on the skin. Your soul has just as much blue as my eyes do.”

Mello expects another round of _no, your past mistakes_ give _**me** the distinction of being morally superior _ sprinkled with harsh words and threats.

Instead, he watches in surprise and something close to pity as Delacroix’s shoulders slump slightly. “Yeah, well, we both saved these kids tonight. Let’s not risk subjecting them to another dead body. I see you, again, I’ll do what I promised last time.”

Sara’s shrug is uncomfortably causal. “Take care of yourself, Matilda.”

She walks past and leaves.

Near crawls over, climbs on top of the bed, and puts his hand on Matt’s face.

Standing, Mello tells himself to wait until he gets out of the room to cry.

…

He’s sitting on one of the picnic tables and looking up when Near climbs up beside him and sets the silver knife in his lap. “Linda fell asleep before she could finish the nurse’s office. Roger put her to bed.”

Mello’s relieved to see there’s no blood on it. He knows someone could have cleaned it, but even so, he wasn’t responsible for any it might have had on it.

“I killed someone.”

“Yeah,” Mello agrees. “And because of that, I’m alive.”

Near moves slightly and starts to say something.

“Be quiet, Near,” Mello orders. “I am sorry, Near. I am sorry for what this does to you. But you know what? If I made a list of all my sins and mistakes, it’d be a long one. Compared to most of the students here and to a lot of the children out there, I can’t even invoke the justification of an innocent child being saved by sacrificing a dangerous adult. What it comes down to, though, is that, for everything I’ve done wrong, I’ve never come close to killing anyone. She was going to kill me, and she might have killed Matt and even you. Because you stopped her, I’m alive. We all are. I can’t be sorry for that.”

He feels the steady weight of Near leaning against him.

Rolling his eyes, he says, “Still don’t like you any.” He slides of the table and reaches over to lower Near to the ground. “Let’s go check on Matt.”

He doesn’t protest when Near’s fingers link through his.

…

Linda peers into Mello’s room.

Mello is sleeping on his back with his foot touching Matt’s while Matt sleeps on his stomach with one arm pressed against the wall and the other underneath his stomach. In between them, Near is curled on his side and facing Mello. His back touches Matt’s side, and underneath his neck is Mello’s hand.

She quietly moves over to the nightstand and picks up her knife.

As she looks down, her red eyes stare back up at her, and she remembers the day she squatted in bushes with her mother’s black blood coating the green grass and red eyes staring up her as she slid the silver blade into her hands. _‘My power is going to go to you soon, sweetheart. Never let them catch you, and most importantly, never give them a reason to try. If you ever hurt a human, pay the price. If you think you won’t be able to-’_

Her mother had swallowed heavily, and tears had coated the red. _‘I know you will. If they ever close in without cause and you can’t see a way that doesn’t involve death- Do you understand, baby?’_

She’d nodded. _‘I understand, Mama. It should be mine. I understand. I promise, if I have to, I’ll do it before I can ever hurt anyone.’_

The last time she’d heard her birth name was when her mother had whispered it and declared, _‘My love for you goes beyond death.’_

Looking up, she takes Near in and wonders if she should get some wolfs bane pills and give them to him in case. He strikes her as the type who’d do better with poison than a blade.

She’d been afraid he’d die from the bite Brandon inflicted, but she hadn’t been concerned he’d hurt anyone. Now, because she couldn’t find them in time, Brandon’s sister is dead, and in all honesty, this quells some of her fears. It’s now clear he can protect himself, if only as extension of protecting Mello. He’s as strong as a werewolf can be, and if he has to deal with more of them in the future, doing so as an alpha, even if an omega, will give him the best possible advantages.

But he can kill, and she’s always known Mello’s probably right about his questionable morality.

Her eyes flicker to Mello, and she suddenly has the urge to paint him and Matt in werewolf form. Of course, Matt would have yellow eyes, but she can’t decide whether Mello would have yellow or red.

It wouldn’t matter, she decides. In Near’s pack of these two human boys, his red eyes are as much of a threat against Mello as his higher test scores are.

As long as Mello is human- and if he ever becomes otherwise, she’ll reassess the situation then.

Grateful there’s been no blood on the knife, she slides it into her pocket and slips out of the room. 

 


End file.
